Outlawed
by EmberTheDragon
Summary: Ember, Clawz, Dean and Sam live in a world where dragons are anything but fantasy and left alone. Dragons have been hunted for the past five years for unfair reasons. The trio are hunted along with the not-so-mythical creatures. AN: I apologize for any mistakes made. This is my first story. Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters!
1. Ambush In The Windy City

**Author's Notes: This is my very first story. I apologize for any typos or mistakes. Still trying to figure this thing out.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters! I only own Ember and the dragons. **

• Chapter One •

Ambush in the Windy City

Chicago bustled under the black night sky, glittering with streetlights and the headlights of cars as if dusted with glitter. The full moon stared down at Earth like a giant white eye, the stars glittering across the vast black sky. Christmas was nearly a week away, and the ground was layered with five inches of snow at the least.

Car horns, Christmas bells, sirens, the occasional yell of an enraged local could be heard from the outskirts of the town. But something still seemed abnormal to the large city. Strange black cars quietly patrolled the outskirts of Chicago, as if searching for something. Ember flashed a triumphant grin as they failed to spot her as she shot through the sky overhead on a silver dragon.

Ember was a small fifteen-year-old teenager, no more than five feet tall, had pale skin, as if the color had been drained from it. Freckles speckled her face, ranging from cheek to cheek, keeping around her nose. Her tree-bark colored hair was tied in a short, curly ponytail which was kept by a black hairband. Her forest green eyes, flecked with silver, shown with recklessness and cheer most of the time. She could have been compared to a fox, small and compact, with sharp movements and a certain alertness that seemed to edge every thought that run wild in her mind. She was attired in a black hoodie that was thick, a white dragon patterned over her _heart._ Her jeans were loose and dark navy, and black boots slipped onto her feet.

/Up a little more, Enclave./ she sent the thought to the dragon beneath her, casting a nervous look at the black-clad men baring machine guns. /We're fine./ the silver dragon sniffed back, although cockiness edged her thought. The dragon was no longer than two Toyota Tundras backed against each other with not an inch to spare in between. She was short-bodied, her tail ranging to nine feet. Her wingspan was twenty feet with her wings spread out as far as they would allow. Enclave's scales gleamed like a shiny new half-dollar. Small, ridged scales protruded from her spine, needle-like and sharp as her teeth. Near the end of her tail, two extra bones jutted out, connecting with the last two feet of the tail with white and silver dappled skin, matching the membranes on her wings.

Her golden eyes were as large as a small dinner plate, and shone beautifully with paler gold webbed like cobwebs around her black pupils. The dragon's eyes had always reminded Ember of the gold dollar her friend had given her a decade ago, long before Temeraria happened.

Temeraria happened five years ago this very day, to be precise. It was a snowy day, cold and quiet as expected. That morning the dragon struck the White House. It had been turned into dust and rubble by the time authorities had reached it. Dragons were to blame seemingly, but it was honestly the scientists who had caused it. The only ones at fault were they. But they never took responsibility for their faults. The particular dragon had been subjected to rage inducing experiments for anonymous reasons, causing it to build up far too much frustration. It had broken free of the secluded laboratory earlier that morning and I suppose you could say the White House happened to be the path of the creature. The president had been killed along with his family, and the rest of the people trapped in the huge building. They had always blamed dragons - claiming that they were Hell's pets - not the scientists, who had been very much at fault.

/Where's the building?/ Ember asked, scanning the bright lights of the city for the structure she had seen so many times when studying it. They darted through the freezing night air, it was so cold that frost accumulated on Enclave's silvery scales, which reflected the lights from Chicago. Ember noted this and worried. /Fly a little higher. Your scales are casting shards./ she grunted, shuddering as they passed a particularly cold air current. Enclave soared through it for a moment, ceasing to flap her wings and let herself drift along the current. /Stop basking. We have to find the building./ she snorted, slightly amused. /Why are you so bossy today?/ Enclave shot back, obeying despite the retort and grinning to herself. /This is an important! We need to rejoin with Clawz and Dean./ Ember hissed through her mind. /There!/ she gasped, almost missing it. It was a short building, no more than one story high and a mile long.

The old mall was deteriorated in some places, but the bricks were holding up. /Where's Clawz and Dean../ she thought, scanning the place for her friends and their dragons. /Hmmm./ she sighed, sitting back in the saddle strapped to Enclave's shoulders. The saddle was made of leather, one strap wound tightly around the base of the silver dragon's neck and another strap wrapped snugly behind her shoulders. /Land there,/ Ember signaled towards the back of the big building.

Enclave spiraled into a dive, stretching out her wings and pulling back to alight in the overgrown parking lot. In most places the asphalt was cracked with weeds prospering in between. A gaping hole caved in about the one forth of the distance to the left across. Graffiti was painted on everything. The faded spray paint was tattooed on the walls of the building, almost every inch was covered with varied colors and images. One depicted a red dragon. An all too familiar dragon. /Clawz needs to be more careful. Someone spotted Conjour./ Ember commented, unbuckling herself from the saddle and sliding off Enclave's shoulders.

Not a moment later, a guttural growl echoed from the empty hallways of the abandoned mall. Ember and Enclave froze with alarm at the same moment. Enclave's eyes narrowed until the slit was no wider than a scrap of paper. /Get ready./ The silver dragon hissed, studying the black depths of the exposed hallway. The strange noise sounded from the yawning hole again. /It-/ Ember started, but stopped as a familiar fifteen-year old girl appeared out of the yawning aperture. She was about the same height as Ember - if not the smallest bit shorter - but had short, dark, curly red hair that reminded her of blood that hung down to her shoulders and brown eyes flecked with carmine. Her skin was a bit darker than Ember's pale flesh. She was also dressed in a similar hoodie, but the differences were colors. Hers was pale gray with a red dragon staring solemnly upwards. Her pants were black. She was spattered with gore.

"Clawz!" Ember exclaimed at the sight of the carnage. "What happened? Did you run into trouble? Where's Dean?" She poured questions on her friend and hurried over, Enclave right behind her. A large shadow fell over Clawz. "There were a few complications." Clawz said, leering. The shadow gave the same growl Ember and Enclave heard from the hallway, and a mottled crimson dragon appeared. The red dragon stood about twenty-nine feet tall and was larger than Enclave.

"Conjour and I lost Dean and Chem about a half a mile back. He said he'd be right back and that he had to do something." Clawz sniffed. "We had fun though. He," she gestured towards the ample bloody dragon. "Almost got himself caught. But we lost them." She said quickly.

Conjour's neck towered over the dragon and two humans, lanky enough to reach the roof of the building standing somberly beside them. His scales were red, black scales spanning out over his entire, long agile body and giving him a mottled look. The length of his body was thirty five feet at the least, his neck and tail ten feet drawn. Serrated teeth stuck out from under his jawline like kitchen knives. The membranes of his wings were dark red with black meshed over the skin, forming a peculiar pattern across the bridge of his shoulders that looked like a pair of ominous eyes. The berms of the membranes looked as if they had been eaten away by acid, leaving them looking like shot-up paper. The wingspan of the gore-smeared dragon was forty feet at the least. His maroon eyes were peppered with brighter, blood red motes.

A thick black horn topped the end of his snout. There were no ridged scales that ran along his spine unlike Enclave, but black spikes stuck upwards from his spine near his haunches.

"What kind of complications?" Ember said slowly, prudent of Clawz' dragon's presence now. Clawz seemed genuinely amused. "The kind of complications that carry machine guns." She snorted, shaking her head. "Dean led them away. I told him not to but he didn't seem to care.." She trailed off there. Ember frowned. "What happened..?" She asked, somewhat quietly.

"We were flying over Bloomington when we ran into trouble. Apparently there are Caenons there, too." Caenons were a secret society of the government, meant to hunt and kill whatever remaining dragons hid in caves like hunted rabbits. They were established after Temeraria, only they didn't exactly call that terrible incident Temeraria. Temeraria was a term that the dragons - and the ones who allied with them - had labeled it as. The Caenons called it the "Dragon's act of Bellum", which, translated from Latin, was of course Dragon's Act Of War. Clawz, Ember and Dean knew at least four of the deadly, secret agents were stationed in every state, but their whereabouts were unknown to the three.

"They spotted us and shot, but missed most of the time." Clawz paused, waiting for Ember to start.

"/Most/ of the time? Were any of you hurt?" She demanded, prickling with unease.

Clawz frowned. "I'm not sure. Conjour has a bullet hole in his left wing, but Dean and Chem weren't hurt as far as I know." She sighed. "When they showed up, Dean contacted me and told me that he would lead them away. We landed a minute after he left, then that's when a couple of the Caenons ambushed us. We got away - not to mention that the agents didn't." She added with a devious grin.

They then noticed all of Chicago seemed to go silent. Not a car horn blared, nor were there sounds of people hurrying home and yelling for a taxi. Not a sound. It was as if the populated city was holding its breath.

A sudden shrill, warning shriek sounded, quickly superseded by a harsh, wailing siren. Something green suddenly vaulted from from the sky, hurling like a comet towards the abandoned parking lot.


	2. On The Run

**AN: Sorry if you think the story's crappy. I'm still struggling with figuring this out.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters!**

• Chapter Two •

On the Run

"GO!" A familiar voice screamed from the green blur. "Dean!" Clawz yelped as he and a mossy verdant dragon pulled up sharply, hovering just above the ground. "COME ON! THEYRE RIGHT BEHIND ME!" Ember had a good idea of who 'they' were. Dean was waving his arms wildly, motioning to get on their dragons quickly. Ember immediately sprang towards Enclave, bounding onto the dip between her shoulder blades and strapping herself to the leather saddle.

Clawz acted faster. She was in the air on Conjour before Ember had reached Enclave. The crimson dragon flung himself into the air, streaking upwards towards the black sky, Chem right behind. Chem was a thin-looking dragon, her scales glimmering like summer grass. Her frame was skinny and well built, compact and graceful. Her tail streamed out behind her as she hurtled after Conjour like a rocket. Four wings spanned out from her body ten feet across each. Her head was shaped like a viper's. It was flattish and thin with a powerful neck, good for striking. Toxic purple eyes stared out from that deadly face.

Enclave launched into the air, pounding her wings to gain altitude. They did quickly, but not before gunfire echoed around the city. Someone shrieked, but Ember couldn't decipher where from with the wind whistling in her ears. She rapidly exchanged thoughts with Enclave before the silvery dragon drew sharply to the left, angling towards Clawz and Dean. Ember's heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest. Sure, this had happened often before, but there was always gradual warnings. Perhaps a whispered rumor of the Caenon's arrival in a near city, or even in the present city. But it was never this sudden. /Seconds to react to the slightest warning./

/It's the Caenons./ Dean screamed, pain lacing his thought. Ember cocked an eyebrow at his pained tone, but said nothing. The gunfire suddenly ceased. She dared look behind them; and immediately wished she hadn't. A jet was whistling towards them. /They must be desperate to kill us./ she grunted mentally, sending it to the rest of the group. Enclave veered heedfully to the side, abandoning the path of the deadly turbo.

The jet hurtled harmlessly past, grazing the air beside Conjour, but injuring no one. It continued on and crashed into the trees below, exploding with a deafening reverberation. The six beat a hasty retreat, vanishing into the inky black cover of night.

They landed a few miles prior to the border of Canada. The lonely woods were quiet, with crickets chirping and bullfrogs croaking from nearby ponds. It was peaceful around the dragons, for once. No men in black were trying to murder them. No sirens were following their arrival to the area.

"I could live here." Clawz yawned, looking exhausted. Conjour looked ruffled and tired also. He settled on the needle-strewn ground, standing out against the dark green and brown like a rose petal in mud. Ember leaned back on Enclave, trying to keep her eyes open and alert. Dean was sitting on top of Chem, shivering violently. He suddenly toppled off of the dark green dragon and collapsed on the ground, landing with a dull thump.

Clawz was by him in an instant, staring at the blood pooling beneath Dean.


	3. Leave This Place

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters!**

• Chapter Three •

Leave This Place

Dean looked back at Clawz wistfully, sighing and slumping onto his jade dragon, Chem. They were fleeing Bloomington in a attempt to shake off the Caenons after barely being caught. Chem maneuvered to the right, avoiding a bullet by an inch.

Dean was almost seventeen, they'd celebrate his birthday in January, a month away. He was five inches taller than Clawz, and slightly broad chested. His eyes were dark green with lighter shades affixed through them, showing no emotion. The only time they did show any sign of emotion was when he was near Clawz. The teenager's hair was brown and black, short, clean cut, and flared up a little above his forehead. His attire was a thick, light brown hoodie. Over his heart was a spiraling green outline of a dragon.

The teenager glanced back at Clawz, watching her disappear into the obsidian night on Conjour, her dragon.

Chem suddenly dived, saving them both from a shower of gunfire. She folded her wings and streaked for the ground, a flat grassy plane beneath them. The moment before they crashed into the ground, her wings abruptly snapped open again. They avoided being crushed into the earth, Chem now hurtling over the plain at an incredible speed. Her momentum built and she gradually was pulled closer to the ground. The lithe green dragon pumped her wings furiously and they gained altitude once again.

No gunfire proceeded as they did so. /I hope we're not being lulled into a false sense of security./ Chem commented, flying higher for safety. She hit the cloud cover and vanished into the cloud.

Sure that they had lost the Caenons, Dean adopted a blue expression and stared ahead. He had told Clawz to go ahead to meet Ember in Chicago at their destination point while he led the Caenons - the dragon hunters - away. He sighed. He had a mission.

Chem's voiced chimed into his head. /Why don't you just tell the girl?/ she inquired in a soft tone. /I don't know what to do../ he muttered back. /All you need to do is confess. The truth is the only way to honestly win someone./ she quoted.

Dean growled slightly. He shut out Chem and thought to himself privately. /I-I just have to.. Tell her at the right moment../ he sighed quietly. He covertly planned what he and Chem were about to do. /We'll land behind the building.. Then find Helena.. I have to know where he's at./ he declared mentally.

Chem slowly dipped out of the concealment of the clouds and descended again. She dived gently until they were right above the trees, then glided swiftly over the treetops. Silence sat between the teenager and the dragon.

/I see the building./ Chem announced, pulling up slightly as she started the descent towards the recently built house. It was about a couple hundred meters away.

The house was more of a small cabin than a actual house. Trees surrounded the adobe, dark and grim in the darkness. The paned windows gave away the hint that someone was occupying the log cabin.

Chem's wings folded as she dipped into a dive, plummeting towards the ground like a bullet. Her wings snapped open at the precise moment as they neared the ground. Her body absorbed the impact as they landed deftly. Dean slid from the dip between her shoulders and hit the pine needle-strewn ground with a soft thump. He darted towards the wooden plank door of the secluded cabin and opened it, the door protesting with a sharp creak as he entered the home.

The house was decorated for the holidays, lights hung over the stone brick fireplace that was alive with flames to Dean's left. A green couch sat in front of the crackling fireplace. To his right was a kitchen, a bar sitting in front of a oven and other appliances that were resting against the caramel wooden wall. In front of the front door that Dean had entered was another wooden door, of which Dean guessed was a closet.

Dean shuffled silently into the living room to his left, discovering a chair that sat in the corner of the room to his left. He scanned the room, searching for Helena. His feet stepped quietly over the birch planks.

A sudden female voice sounded behind Dean. "Now what do you think you're doing?" Dean sighed in relief and whirled around - only to be smacked in the face by Helena.

He gasped and staggered backwards, crashing into a small table and knocking it over in the process. Helena huffed and looked at him. "Drama queen." She sniffed.

Helena was a short woman that looked about in her early fifties. Her hair was light brown with blond streak here and there. Her eyes were a pale solid green and glittered with humor. On her shirt was a cardinal that perched on a pine branch. Another Christmas decoration, Dean guessed.

The older woman sighed. "What are you here for?" She inquired, blinking at him curiously. "I have to know something." Dean answered, getting up and dusting himself off. Helena blinked again. "What now, child?" She respired tiredly, as if exasperated. Dean hesitated for a second then asked.

"Where's my brother?" He questioned, watching Helena closely for a reaction. She merely blinked and studied his face. "The last I heard he was onto the trail of a dragon in California." She sighed, shifting her feet.

"California." He bowed his head and whispered to himself. "When was this?" He asked, looking back up at the older woman. "A couple months ago. Maybe three." She replied. Usually it took Caenons three months to track down a single dragon and eliminate it, and it's connection - rider, in other words - also if one was involved.

Dean's brother, Sam, was a Caenon. Caenons were the not-so-secret society of elite dragon hunters. They were formed soon after Temeraria happened, and had been tracking down dragons and connections ever since. They were trained to show no mercy, even to the smallest dragons. Their training was harsh and highly disciplined. He and Clawz had the best of luck to escape them in Bloomington. Dean shivered at the thought of the close encounter.

Helena heaved a sigh. "If Sam hears of the encounter in Bloomington, you will be in hot water." She said in a mindful tone, as if implying he was to leave now. Dean wasn't surprised that she already knew of their close encounter. "Yeah," he suspired quietly.

A shrill sound went off from the TV on the wall. Dean wheeled around, prepared to draw the handgun gun belted at his waist. He stopped as the television screen showed several black Sudans streaking down a highway, which Dean concluded as Highway 155 and the Sudans as Caenons. Highway 155 was no more than five miles from this house. His eyes widened substantially and he turned to Helena, who was staring at him with eyes suddenly full of fear and anxiety. "Leave." She said quickly, gesturing towards the door. "You must leave this place, Dean. Quickly. They will be here soon." She admonished. He gave her a hesitant look. "But my brother-" he started, but was swiftly intervened by the woman. "Now, Dean! Leave this place!" She hissed irritably. He bit the interior of his lip at the harsh note in her voice and nodded, giving a formal goodbye and bounding for the door.

Dean bolted out the door, Helena on his tail. He dashed to Chem, who was tensely waiting underneath the cover of the pine trees, her amethyst eyes glowing a deep purple against the darkness surrounding her. Her four wings were spread, ready to hurl her into the air at any moment. /You must hurry!/ she cried urgently through thought. Alarms went off in Dean's head as he bounded into the hollow between Chem's shoulders and heard cars screeching off in the distance.

He looked back at Helena, finding her eyes boring into him. "Leave this place." She disclosed, and turned and vanished back inside.

Confusing emotions nearly overwhelmed Dean as Chem hurled herself into the air and pelted upwards into the night sky. He gripped the black leather saddle that was strapped to Chem and remembered to secure himself to the saddle. He hurriedly fastened the strap to the buckle and winced as Chem dived sharply to avoid an onslaught of bullets.

The green dragon yelped and pounded her wings as one bullet struck her top right wing. She shot up into the air like a bullet and then folded her wings, slowly letting gravity start affecting her. Her advance into the sky slowed and she spun, facing the ground with her muzzle and plummeted. It was a simple maneuver. The bullets wouldn't be able to strike her because of the gravity pulling her quickly towards the ground. Dean ducked low over the saddle and held fast to it, knowing how strong the force of what was about to happen was. They both streaked towards the ground, Chem squinting and calculating the distance between them and the ground. She did quickly and right before they were smashed into the ground to a pulp, Chem's wings snapped open and carried them into the sky.

She pelted upwards, pounding her wings furiously to defy the Earth's gravitational pull. It was working. Even the Caenon's reflexes weren't quick enough to follow Chem's breakneck speed. Momentum was their ally as the green dragon's weight caused them to burst into the cloud cover and into safety. Chem's momentum evaporated swiftly as she stilled her wings to a gentle glide. She skated over the cloud covering smoothly. /So what now?/ she inquired.

/To Chicago./


	4. Life As As Dragon Hunter

**AN: Sorry if the story sucks. :x**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters!**

• Chapter Four •

Life As A Dragon Hunter

Chicago was cheery and boisterous. Everyone greeted you with a buoyant 'Hello!' Or 'Merry Christmas!'. White fluffy snow coated everything with a fine layer of soft powder. Lights were strung in every available place. Over streets, around streetlights, in shop windows, on signs, even in restaurants. Everything had a enlivening airy tone to it. The night sky shown clear, stars spread out like glittering dew drops across the boundless black blanket of night. Frost tinted every shop casement and car window.

But something seemed amiss. Something sinister crouched under the bouncy air of the populated city. A boy, no older than sixteen, passed by the windows of the shops, examining the goods displayed in the frosted windows. His brown shaggy hair was tucked under a black toboggan, his green-gray eyes searching the faces of every human that passed him. His pointed nose was red from the chilly temperature. He was clad in a thick black jacket, a hidden bullet-proof vest and pistol concealed under the jacket. He wore blue jeans and black boots in a vain effort to look normal enough to pass as a regular citizen.

The ends of his hair stuck out from under his ebony toboggan. His height exceeded most of the peoples' in the crowd, his maximum height stopping at six feet. His eyes betrayed his frustration as he gave up searching for the connections. He and his squad had been sent on a mission after the encounter with two Resistors in Bloomington. One of which was his brother.

After their parents had been killed in the first Dragon's Act, the incident involving the White House five years ago today.

The president of St. George, John Byrd, sent Squad F - the boy's squadron - to Chicago immediately, informing them that the Resistors were heading Southeast towards Chicago. He sighed and walked down the bustling street, still alert for the Resistor's faces that he had familiarized himself with months ago.

He scowled. Th Resistors. He hated them. They sided with the dragons. /The dragons/. The ones who had killed hundreds in the . Dragons were merciless monsters that killed to enjoy seeing humans' entrails spread across the Earth. And they called St. George the Caenon's. How deficient. Where did the word 'Caenon' even come from?

"Sam!" The teenager was snapped out of his thoughts as him name was called. He turned to find one of his friends in Squad F, Xavier, pushed through the crowd hastily, eyes shining. "We found them." Sam knew instantaneously who Xavier meant by 'them'. "They're near the old abandoned Crossroads mall. Captain's orders, we go take them down. Just you and me. C'mon!" He gasped, breathless from his efforts of getting through the cluster of people.

Xavier was short and tan-skinned, his black hair hanging over his forehead like a curtain. His large black eyes gleamed with excitement and anxiety. "Don't just stand there- hurry! We need to get there as fast as we can!"

Sam processed what Xavier said and started to move. He jostled through the congregation, his endeavor slow as he tried to follow his friend quickly.

They finally made it to a street and hurried across, earning themselves a loud blare from a agitated taxi driver as he skidded to a stop in front of them. Xavier waved the driver off and hurried to the other side, Sam close behind. The smaller teen slipped easily through the crowd, his small frame quick and lithe, unlike Sam's large, lanky frame that slowed his progress. The two passed shops advertising fudge, Christmas decorations, toys, candy, tools, and other various trinkets and items.

They achieved reaching the edge of the city an hour later, both of them gasping after the long, difficult journey across half the city.

Black Sudans patrolled the city, Sam noted. They circled the area quietly, like a beast crouched for a kill.

Sam sighed deeply and followed Xavier to one of the government cars parked in the grass. The smaller boy opened the door to the driver's seat and picked up something, then turned back around. He bore a .50 caliber M2 machine gun. He tossed the loaded gun with a sly grin to Sam, who caught it successfully and blinked at him. He was slightly surprised. They didn't use gun like these often. Only under the most desperate circumstances did they use these.

The taller teenager hefted the gun over his shoulder, the strap bound over his shoulder with the barrel pointed upwards towards the sky. Xavier unlocked a hard black case on the seat, abducting a similar gun out of the styrofoam-interior case and slinging over his shoulder as Sam had done.

"Now," he announced, closing the case and shutting the thick car door with a clank and a clamorous thud. He turned to Sam with a devious look on his small-scale face. "Ready to kill some dragons?" A smile of vengefulness spread across his face, giving him a haunting look.

Sam grinned spitefully, all the rage he had kept locked up inside himself for the past six years now exploding inside his stomach like bombs. Fury tensed his muscles and sharpened his sense and strength. "Yeah. Let's go." The towering teenager spun around and stalked towards their destination, the Crossroads Mall.

He knew Xavier was following close behind, and quickened his pace substantially until he was sprinting across the black asphalt lot towards the shadowed bushes lining the concrete path leading them towards the dissipated mall.

They were about a half a mile away from the Crossroads Mall, it wouldn't take long to get there. Sam's feet flew over the wintry setting, the trees bare of leaves and wooden benches set beside the path. The moon illuminated the white spotless ground. No breeze stirred the calm environment. Sam grimaced as he thought of how quickly this would change when the rest of his squad reached the crumbling mall.

Xavier's feet pattered fleetingly behind Sam, echoing quietly across the winter scene. No other movement was made as the two teenagers pounded down the pavement. They finally neared the architecture. Sam abated his pace to a soundless jog, Xavier copying him. They took sanctuary behind a still-green rhododendron bush and kept alert eyes on the large abandoned parking lot.

Their patient vigil payed off. "Look! There!" Xavier hissed, pointing towards the deteriorating, red brick mall. A flash of silver caught Sam's eye, and he watched with growing rage as a medial silver dragon landed in the lot, it's wings flared out as it alighted on the dark gray asphalt. His rage boiled into fury and he was barely able to control his movements. /Don't let anger dictate you./ he took a deep breath and stared daggers at the arriving dragon. He looked at Xavier, waiting for any gesture to take aim. Xavier only stayed in a crouch, staring ahead and watching the silver dragon's every move.

Something moved. A human, a connection, Sam thought, slid off the dragon's shoulders and moved like a fox. /It's one of them./ Sam thought with a vicious inward snarl. He dug through his memory, searching for the faces he so often studied. Ember and Clawz. They were the only two other Resistors left other than Sam's brother, Dean. He recognized the the Resistor in front of them as Ember, the one with the silver dragon. Her frame was small - even smaller than Xavier's - and her hair was tried back in a single tail. She was clad in a black hoodie and boots, as well as blue jeans. He couldn't see well from a hundred yards away, but he had well enough visual to be sure it was Ember.

Sam's eyes narrowed and he carefully and discreetly shouldered off his machine gun. It was already loaded, so all he had to do was aim and pull the trigger. He glanced at Xavier again to discover that he had also removed his gun from his shoulder. The smaller boy's eyes betrayed fury and a hunger for revenge.

Sam turned his attention back to the lot to ascertain that a second girl had appeared. His eyes darkened with rage. He concluded that the new girl was Clawz. She was about the same height as Ember as far as he could tell, and her blue hair was slightly frazzled as if she had been blasted with air.

She was wearing a dark gray hoodie and jeans also. Black leather boots occupied her feet. Sam noticed that Clawz' hoodie was spattered with something red. A conversation seemed to go on between the two Resistors. He brought up his gun and trained it on the silver dragon, aiming at the spot behind it's front limb, which would cut straight to the heart. They were trained to aim for that particular point. It would kill the beasts almost instantly. He had not yet noticed that the city had gone completely silent.

Xavier had done the same as a large red dragon appeared beside Clawz. A snarl made its way over Sam's face as he started to squeeze the trigger. A sudden startling siren blared from somewhere in the vicinity of Chicago and a warning shriek came from a green comet pelting towards the large lot.

Sam's mouth gaped in confusion as he stared, but by the time he recovered his brother, Ember and Clawz were streaking upwards in a flash. Sam blustered loudly and rushed out onto the pavement, his snarl deepening.

He took aim quickly and gripped the gun, pulling the trigger and firing at the escaping dragons. He thought he heard a shriek of pain. He grinned in fierce satisfaction and kept shelling out the bullets. He struck once more, he thought, on the red dragon's wing, but nothing else.

He stared with interest as something shot after the Resistors. He recognized it as a Molotov cocktail. His eyes widened. They hardly ever used those anymore.

The deadly bomb missed by an inch and lost altitude, diving towards another area and going off. It let off a ear-piercing cannonade, flames leaping upwards at the sky after. With a furious hiss, Sam dropped the gun and glowered at the disappearing dragons.


End file.
